


Coffee Shop Meetings

by victoriannightwriter



Series: Miraculous One-Shots [3]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Awkwardness, Dorks in Love, First Meetings, M/M, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:14:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26354803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victoriannightwriter/pseuds/victoriannightwriter
Summary: Coffee Shop AU where Nathaniel's a barista at the coffee shop that Marc frequents to work on his writing. Oh, and when Nath sees one (1) cute writer boy, his brain shuts down and he can't function properly.
Relationships: Marc Anciel & Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Marc Anciel/Nathaniel Kurtzberg
Series: Miraculous One-Shots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1821121
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37





	Coffee Shop Meetings

The door jingled, announcing a customer’s exit from the coffee shop. Nathaniel glanced up to see the commotion, then went back to scrubbing out the grinds from one of the coffee machines. At least the only other two customers in the building were satiated for the time being, one reading a newspaper in a chair and the other scrolling through their phone and eating a croissant. It had been at least ten minutes without a customer approaching the counter for whatever reason, thankfully. Nathaniel was practically working alone, with the only other person behind the counter being the employee in the back, currently mopping the prep room floor, so if any customers needed something he’d be the one in charge.

A coffee shop was definitely not his forte in regards to work, but it paid enough that he could afford the art supplies he wanted, as well as putting some aside for art school in the future. He’d taken up some extra hours in order to buy a drawing tablet, which was a good idea in theory, but after his fourth day of having an eight hour shift, it was starting to look less and less appealing. 

Once again, the door jingled and Nathaniel instinctively glanced up, relieved to meet the eyes of an actual customer. A boy about his age pushed the door open, looking furtively around the room. In one of his hands was a satchel, large enough for a laptop, and the other held a wallet. 

He approached the counter, prompting Nathaniel to make his way to the cash register to get his order. “Ca—can I get a . . .” the boy paused, eyes scanning over the menu. This moment of silence gave Nathaniel the opportunity to take in the boy’s appearance. He didn’t tend to think about customers any more than people who’d be in and out, but for some reason this one caught his attention more than he’d thought possible. 

The boy had silky black hair that framed his face in light waves and striking green eyes which stood out against his pale skin. He acted nervous, fiddling with the fingerless gloves on his hands and shifting his weight between his feet. If he hadn’t been wearing a bright red hoodie and a rainbow tie-dye shirt, he would’ve appeared to be rather emo, with eyeliner, a studded belt, and a choker to match. 

The boy’s eyes snapped down, meeting Nathaniel’s again. With burning cheeks, Nathaniel realized that he’d been looking at him _way_ too long. And of course, now the boy was blushing too. Was he weirded out? If he complained, that could cost Nathaniel his job. But no, he almost seemed . . . embarrassed?

“. . . a black and white mocha? And medium for the size? If you guys still have it, that is.” he added hastily. “I know it’s a seasonal drink . . .”

“Yeah, of course!” Nathaniel smiled his best “customer service” smile as he typed the order in the cash register. He could sense the boy’s eyes on him as he did so, which only increased his emotions, an odd mixture of panic and confusion. 

Why did this boy interest him so much? It’s not as if they’d had a long and fascinating conversation or anything that could put him above the other customers. It wasn’t due to his age being close to Nathaniel’s own, as a lot of his peers stopped by to get coffee and snacks from time to time. No, it was more the way the light hit the boy’s eyes in a way that made them seem to glow a neon green, the way his hair seemed so soft and fell around his face so gracefully, the way his lips sparkled with a light shimmer of pink gloss—

_Oh._

He was _cute._

“Yeah, uh, that’ll be €3.77.” Nathaniel attempted, choking over his words and coughing lightly to cover it up. “Sorry, can I get a name? _For the order!_ A name for the order.”

The boy nodded, almost a little too profusely. “Y-yeah. It’s Marc. Mark with a C.”

“Okay!” Nathaniel quickly scribbled something onto the cup he’d picked up without looking. His heart thumped to the point where he just _knew_ that the other boy could hear it loud and clear. “Uh, your order will be ready in a minute!”

“Thanks.” Marc met his eyes again, then immediately looked away. 

A wave of guilt washed through Nathaniel’s head as he considered the fact that he might’ve embarrassed Marc had the other figured out what he was thinking. He did tend to be pretty obvious with crushes—is that what this was? A crush? And maybe Marc hadn’t guessed, though either way the whole thing was pointless since there was no way someone that pretty would be remotely interested in someone like Nathaniel. 

As he filled Marc’s cup with espresso, Nathaniel sensed the other employee approach him from behind. Then, without warning, the employee whispered, “You can flirt later, Kurtzberg.”

Nathaniel jerked back as if the hot coffee had burned him. _“What?”_

“You heard me. Do your job, man.” But that was said with a jovial tone, implying that he was joking. Of course, that did nothing to satiate Nathaniel’s growing worry. If his coworker had noticed how he’d acted around Marc, then no way had Marc himself missed it. 

As he mixed the dark and white chocolate mocha in, Nathaniel’s heard grew heavier as he realized that Marc would probably leave and then he’d miss his chance completely. Even with that thought in the back of his mind, he couldn’t bring himself to actually act upon his growing feelings. And what if Marc was totally straight? Though in Nathaniel’s personal opinion, Marc gave off heavy “non-straight” vibes. But either way, he was too anxious to even try.

He hardly looked up when setting Marc’s completed drink on the counter, even when the boy in question picked it up. But he did snap to attention when a quick sharp laugh came from the other side of the counter. 

“I—I’m sorry!” Marc stammered, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “I just, uh, my name—”

Nathaniel glanced back at the cup, only to double take when he noticed that instead of “Marc”, he’d quite literally written Mark with a C, with the name on the side plainly saying “Cark”. Yeah, way to make a good impression. Internally cursing himself out, he turned back to face the boy and said, “I’m so sorry, I can get you a new drink—”

“No! It’s fine, I just thought it’s funny. Sorry.” Marc insisted, picking up the cup. “I-I get a lot of people spelling my name wrong. This was just a new one, so . . . yeah.”

“I do too.” Nathaniel added, emboldened. “Uh, my name’s Nathaniel . . . and I get people assuming I go by Nathan or Nate a lot. But anyway, I’m sorry about your cup, I swear I’m not usually this absentminded.”

“It’s okay! So . . .” His eyes flicked to the side as he played with a strand of hair. “You just go by Nathaniel?”

“That or sometimes Nath.” 

It was so _easy_ to talk to Marc when the topic was easy, like the topic of names should be. Still, he couldn’t make eye contact, couldn’t meet Marc’s gaze. Again, he reminded himself, it’s not like it mattered. Customers came and went, many of which were nice to the customer service because they were decent people. This conversation meant nothing, right?

Before the artist could add anything else, the employee from earlier leaned over his shoulder and said, “Hey Nathaniel, take your fifteen minute break.”

“But—”

His knowing look was more than enough to convince him. “I’ve got it under control.”

Marc watched, unmoving, as Nathaniel took off his apron and made his way around the counter to head to the back room. Half of his mind desperately hoped that Marc would stop him, would ask to talk more, and the other half wished that he wouldn’t so Nathaniel wouldn’t make a bigger fool of himself. 

The former won.

“Hey.” Marc spoke up. Nathaniel turned to see him playing with his gloves again, eyes trained on the floor. “Uh, if you want somewhere to sit on your break, I’m sitting over there—” He cut off sharply with a panicked expression overtaking his face. He looked like he wanted to disappear or die on the spot. 

“Yeah! That sounds fun.” Feeling a rush of bravery, he added, “I’d love to keep talking to you.”

“Oh.” Marc was suddenly fascinated by his shoes. “Thanks.”

Nathaniel followed him over to a corner table, tucked away from the rest of the coffee shop. It was like a little hiding spot in the middle of a very public room. Very deliberately keeping his eyes towards the ground, Marc set down his cup and satchel and pulled a laptop from the latter. He then took a seat and Nathaniel sat opposite him, resting his head on a hand and waiting for Marc to finish situating himself.

“I’m sorry, I was being really forward.” Marc confessed, his shoulders slumping. “I’m sure you don’t usually sit with the customers on your breaks, I just thought—”

“No, don’t worry! What’s the computer for?”

“Oh! I like to write.”

Writing, one of the skills Nathaniel had attempted but could never perfect. Everything he wrote was riddled with cliches, plot holes, and other errors that he couldn’t seem to push past. Which was fine, art was definitely his speciality. Still . . .

“Ah, I like to draw! I’m actually saving for a tablet right now.”

Marc finally lifted his head, nearly meeting Nathaniel’s gaze. “Really? I’ve tried drawing but I’ve never been very good at it. Words are so much easier for me.”

“That’s so funny, it’s the opposite for me. I can never make words work the way I want them to.”

They spent the next while talking about their respective hobbies, both opening up a little more as they laughed and discussed some of the work they’d done. Apparently, Marc had some original fiction published in a magazine, though as he said, he’d mostly posted his work online for free. He told Nathaniel the username of his writing account, and in turn, Nathaniel gave Marc the name of his art Instagram account. 

All too soon, the fifteen minute break was over, and Nathaniel had to get back to work. But before he left, he considered the implications of their last discussion. Marc was friendly, if really shy, and he seemed so receptive to Nathaniel’s attention. That didn’t mean he was attracted to Nathaniel the way it was vice versa, but still, it would be worth keeping a friendship over. So he scribbled his number onto a napkin with a pen from his pocket.

“Hey, Marc.” he began, anxiety filling his brain once again. “Uh, if you want to call me or something . . .”

“Oh! Thanks!” Marc took the napkin gratefully. “I will! Maybe we could collaborate sometime with our art? Like a comic or something? If you want to, that is.”

The idea hadn’t even occurred to Nathaniel, but a comic sounded so cool. He’d always wanted to do more than just one-off drawings he published online for a few likes. “Yeah! I’d love to do that. I think we’d make a good team.”

With that, he and Marc said their goodbyes and Nathaniel headed back to work. Even while doing his job, he was able to sneak a few glances over at Marc until the writer left, waving as he walked out the door. Nathaniel finished off his shift with a smile permanently affixed to his face, looking forward to hearing from Marc.

That evening, as he was getting ready for bed, he got a text from an unknown number. Excitedly, he opened it up and was not disappointed by what it contained. 

_“Hi, this is Marc (or Cark lol). I had fun today :)”_

His fingers shook as he typed back a response.

**“Me too! I’m glad we talked.”**

As he waited for a response from the shy writer, his nerve only grew, screaming in his head that he ought to say something more, that he should compliment Marc and tell him that his outfit was cute and he loved his makeup and—

No. Not yet.

But the screaming stayed, lessening from showering the other boy with compliments to just asking him out. Which was equally terrifying. Who knew if Marc felt the same way about Nathaniel? Sure, he was blushing, but he just seemed like an anxious person. And again, maybe he was straight, or maybe he was just looking for a friend. There were so many variables.

His phone dinged, preventing him from having to come up with a decision at the moment.

_“Do you work tomorrow? I’m thinking about getting coffee again”_

**“I don’t, but I can meet you there! I’ll pay for your coffee, it’s the least I can do since I spelled your name so wrong. Hopefully tomorrow’s employees can get it right, haha. What time?”**

_“Aw, you don’t have to! But thanks lol. I was thinking around 9 in the morning?”_

**“Works for me!”**

_“Alright!! It’s a date!”_

Nathaniel read over that last message again, his confusion rising. What did that mean? He knew it was a figure of speech, but was that the way Marc was using that phrase? Or did he mean a literal date? He was a writer, he was probably just using a figure of speech. Yeah, that made sense.

But still. 

He decided to take a risk with his response, knowing full well that if Marc took it the wrong way, their tenuous friendship might be for nothing. But he wouldn’t be able to calm down until he figured out the answer. He kept his tone light and humorous so that hopefully Marc wouldn’t be too weirded out. 

**“Haha, are you asking me out? (I’d totally say yes if you were btw)”**

Waiting for Marc’s response was torture. Nathaniel kept checking his phone every few seconds, hoping that he’d just missed the dinging and the text reply had been sent already. After what felt like a good ten years, his phone finally chirped with the text tone, and he dove for it immediately. 

_“I mean . . . if you want me to . . .”_

Nathaniel froze. Did that mean what he thought it did?

**“Well if you are, I already told you my answer lol”**

Marc’s reply was fast, a lot more than last time. 

_“Alright, it’s a (literal) date :)”_

Joy filled Nathaniel’s heart as he read the text, then read it again. He had a date. An actual honest-to-god date with a really cute boy who at least liked him enough to ask him out. Just the thought alone was both terrifying and amazing, raising his anxiety along with his serotonin levels. But even more than that, he was thrilled to see Marc again, and maybe not have to hide the feelings that had slowly turned into a massive crush throughout the day. And maybe, just maybe, Marc would reciprocate.

For once, he couldn’t wait to go to work.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you ever see that one thing where the guy ordered a coffee for "Marc with a C" and the barista wrote "Cark" on his coffee cup? I haven't been able to stop thinking about that but for Marc/Nath. And then my friend requested a coffee shop AU and it just kind of fell into place!


End file.
